Forgive Me My Weakness
by Starship Phoenix
Summary: Sometimes a soft touch is all you need.


Dabi was lounging on the top of a tall stack of shipping containers when Hawks arrived at the riverside warehouse just after sunset. Hawks saw him jerk upright at the sound of his approach, then relax back into a lazy slouch once he recognized who it was. Several months had passed since the two of them started their arrangement, and they were no longer as tense in each other's company as they had been at the start. That idea should have unsettled Hawks - the idea of becoming comfortable in a villain's presence. Instead, he was relieved that he no longer had to be constantly on guard around Dabi. It had been exhausting, constantly second guessing every word out of each other's mouths and always looking over his shoulder. Now he was unsettled because he wasn't unsettled. What had happened to that burning hatred? Where had it gone, and why did he feel guilty about its absence?

"You're late!" the villain shouted down as Hawks stepped closer.

"Nice to see you too, bastard," Hawks called out. He craned his neck to look up at Dabi. "Are you coming down or are you going to make me climb up there?"

Dabi shrugged, exaggerated so that Hawks could see it from the ground. Hawks took it to mean "do whatever you want, but I'm not moving."

Hawks sighed before scrambling his way up the shipping containers.

"Did you forget you have wings, birdbrain?" Dabi asked when Hawks made it to the top. He was only slightly out of breath, his left knee twinging where he banged it on a sharp corner halfway up the stack.

"Took down a purse snatcher with a slime quirk this afternoon," Hawks said, pointing to his wings. They were coated in a sticky substance that looked and felt a lot like glue. Dabi snorted and Hawks resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out at him. He knew he looked like a mess. Like some kid's craft project, with feathers sticking out at weird angles and an excess of glue. All he needed was some glitter to complete the look, although glitter was just as hard to remove as this slime proved to be. It was thick and gooey and made it so that Hawks couldn't just detach his feathers, since the slime stuck everything together. He had to scrape it off each individual feather, and it was annoying and painful if he tried to do it too fast. Hawks hadn't managed to get all of the slime out when he remembered he was supposed to meet with Dabi. And of course the glue made it nearly impossible to fly, so Hawks had to walk the entire way, which didn't help his tardiness.

As Dabi and Hawks traded information like two kids trading cards or lunchtime gossip, Hawks fiddled with his wings, peeling the slime off as carefully as he could. By the time they finished Hawks had a pile of goo sitting next to him and was trying and failing to reach for the feathers nearest his back. They were always the hardest to reach even without the slime making it difficult to maneuver his wings.

Hawks could tell Dabi was struggling to keep a straight face and he felt heat rise in his cheeks. He probably looked ridiculous, but he really didn't want to walk all the way back to his apartment. He was tired and it had been a long day and he didn't like having too much time to think. Flying cleared his mind like nothing else did. The roar of wind in his ears, the overwhelming sight of the city from above - flying kept him sane. Kept him from overthinking. Walking, on the other hand, gave him time to think about how far he had fallen. Gave him time to think about why it had been months and he was content to just keep meeting with Dabi. He was supposed to be infiltrating the league. Taking it down from the inside. He hadn't made progress towards that goal in weeks. Instead, he and Dabi danced around the topic of his inevitable meeting with Shigaraki and he reported back to the Commission that he was still gaining Dabi's trust. It felt more like a lie each time.

"Well, if we're done here..." Dabi said and made to stand up.

"Wait," Hawks's mouth said. Fuck, his brain added. He hadn't wanted to say anything, but he was getting desperate. Dabi cocked an eyebrow, but sat back down.

Hawks bit his lip. "Can you…" He trailed off, unable to find it in himself to say the last word. He gestured vaguely at his wings.

"Help?" Dabi supplied.

Hawks felt resignation slide over him. How far he had fallen indeed. Asking a villain for help. He was an idiot. Of course Dabi wouldn't help. He was a villain. Villains didn't help heroes.

Dabi laughed. "I was wondering when your pride would give out," he said.

But he didn't stand up. He didn't leave. He scooched closer to Hawks and gestured for him to turn. Hawks turned his shoulder so that Dabi could better access the last few dozen feathers that Hawks couldn't reach on his own. Dabi's face was a blank mask as he reached towards Hawks' wing, and Hawks attempted to mirror the expression instead of letting his distaste show. It was one thing to talk civilly with a villain. It was another to let him so close, to let him touch his wings. Hawks' heart fluttered in his chest as Dabi's fingers brushed his wings. He didn't often left people close enough to touch his wings in a non-saving capacity. It felt like someone running their fingers through his hair: intimate and pleasurable. A shiver went down his spine. It was almost easy to forget that Dabi was a murderer. Too easy. This was stupid. He should have just sucked it up and walked home. Whatever he was getting out of this wasn't worth the risk. It was possible that Hawks wasn't reading Dabi correctly. If he made any missteps...

"They're softer than I expected," Dabi said, sounding faintly surprised by the fact. Hawks turned his head. For a second, Dabi's expression was soft. Then he locked eyes with Hawks and the impassive mask was back, so fast that for a second Hawks thought he had hallucinated the soft expression on Dabi's face. Hallucination would have made more sense than anything Hawks's mind could provide to explain the look. He was growing more uncomfortable by the second. It was looking like he was right about his assumptions, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"Just get started, will you?" he said, frustration leaking into his voice. "I want to get home before midnight."

"Impatient little bird, aren't you?" Dabi commented.

Hawks narrowed his eyes and Dabi smirked but got to work. He was surprisingly gentle, careful not to tug too hard at the feathers and making his way methodically from feather to feather. He worked in a single-minded silence, and Hawks found himself lulled nearly to sleep at the rhythmic motions of Dabi's fingers as they carefully cleaned off his feathers. The pile of slime grew. Dabi was nearing the end, now.

"Who knew you could be so gentle?" Hawks asked, half joking, half out of real amazement. Dabi had been hard edges since the day they met. Who knew he was capable of something softer? Hawks felt a sharp tug on the feather Dabi had been working on and yelped in pain. "Asshole!" He jerked his head around. "What was that for?"

Dabi gave Hawks an apologetic smile. "Oops, my hand slipped."

Hawks narrowed his eyes. Dabi ignored his disbelief and continued pulling slime out of his feathers.

"I'm done," Dabi announced a few minutes later.

Hawks turned around. "Thank you," he said, sincerely. Dabi looked a bit flustered and Hawks smiled to himself. This close to Dabi, he was able to get a good look at the man's scars. He wondered, not for the first time, how he had received them. Sometimes, he thought he must have done it to himself on purpose, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why someone would go through so much pain just to disfigure themselves. He wondered what the scars felt like.

The next thing he knew he was running his fingers down Dabi's arm. Dabi flinched and Hawks immediately jerked his hand away.

"Does it hurt?"

Dabi was breathing heavily. "No."

If it didn't hurt, then that meant he had flinched just from contact with Hawks. Was it because it was Hawks or because Dabi was unused to touch? Hawks decided to follow his compulsion to touch Dabi again. If the man jerked away again, Hawks would stop, but he wanted to know why he had reacted the way he did. It was useful information. Hawks stretched his hand out, questioning.

"It's only fair," he said. "After all, I let you touch my wings."

Dabi looked at his hand like it was going to bite but didn't move. Hawks sighed in relief. He trailed his fingers up and down Dabi's arm. The scarred skin was dry and leathery under his touch.

"It's softer than I expected," he said.

Dabi snorted. "Are you a parrot now?"

Hawks felt his face heat up and forced himself to look at Dabi instead of away, as was his instinct. Dabi had a strange look on his face. His mask was cracking. Maybe it would be enough to let Hawks in.

"Can you feel anything?" Hawks asked, still sliding his fingers up and down Dabi's arms.

Dabi shook his head. "No."

Hawks looked at him, amazed, unable to comprehend the sensation of not feeling. All Hawks ever did was feel. Feel the wind beneath his wings, feel feathers brushing against him, feel guilt and anger and joy. Did Dabi feel those emotions, or had they been lost alongside his skin? He skimmed his fingers down Dabi's arm, down to the wrist, where Dabi's pale skin was stapled to dark scars. Dabi tensed under him as his fingers got closer to the staples, which pulled his skin tight at the edges. Even if the nerves under his scars were fried, the ones on the rest of his body had to still work, right? The seams between his scarred and unscarred skin must be constantly in pain. Hawks ghosted his fingers over the staples, then to the tips of Dabi's fingers. Dabi still hadn't pulled away, and Hawks felt his confidence grow. He considered how far he wanted to push, and decided to go all the way.

"How did you get–"

Dabi pulled back suddenly, as if burned. "That's it. I'm done." He stood up and made his way to the edge of the shipping container.

Too far. Damnit.

As Dabi made his way down to the ground, Hawks wracked his brain, trying to figure out why he had thought asking someone like Dabi how he got his scars was a good idea. He had to salvage the situation, somehow. He couldn't let Dabi leave angry; it would color the rest of their interactions. He wanted the soft Dabi back, the one that had touched him gently and let Hawks touch him in return. He should have gone slower, shouldn't have leapt so far, should have taken his time. He was always too fast, always two steps ahead of everyone. Sometimes, he forgot that not everyone else thought in terms of the future. Some were stuck in the past.

Hawks stood up and stretched his wings. He was able to move them freely and without pain. Dabi had done a good and thorough job. Hawks glided off the tower of shipping containers and landed in front of Dabi, halting him in his tracks.

"Move," Dabi growled.

"I shouldn't have said that," Hawks said instead of moving.

"For once, you're right. You shouldn't have. Now move. Before I barbecue your pretty wings."

Hawks stepped closer.

"I thought we were finally making good progress," he said.

"Progress?" Dabi scoffed. "Towards what, exactly?"

"Towards an understanding. Towards trust."

Another step. Hawks wasn't lying; he did think they had made a huge leap that night. And he should have been happy about that. About getting Dabi to trust him. Instead, he felt sick and guilty at having upset him, and he wanted to make it right. He had an idea of how, but it was risky.

Dabi was within arm's distance now. Hawks reached out his hand and brushed Dabi's fingertips with his own.

"Can you feel this?" he asked softly.

Dabi didn't respond but he didn't move away as Hawks took one last step to close the distance between them. Dabi's eyes were so blue. He'd never really noticed, because the scars always drew his attention away from them. Hawks blinked, refocusing. His gaze settled on Dabi's lips and the scars that gave him a permanent, grim smile.

"How about this?" he asked before he reached up and pressed his lips gently to Dabi's.

Dabi froze and Hawks hoped he hadn't made a huge mistake. He had just jumped out of a frying pan and into a bonfire. He prayed that it wouldn't burn him.

Finally, Dabi's lips parted under his, and the villain leaned into the kiss. His lips were dry, so Hawks ran his tongue over them. Dabi made a small noise in his throat and Hawks suppressed a smirk. He wasn't the best kisser, but he was willing to bet that Dabi didn't spend his free time hooking up with people and therefore wouldn't know the difference. Hawks brought his hands away from where they were still brushing against Dabi's and ran them lightly up Dabi's arms then around his back. About halfway up Dabi tensed, and Hawks knew that that was where the edge of his scars must be. He moved carefully over the area, then continued up until his hands were in Dabi's hair. Dabi shivered at the touch and this time Hawks couldn't help but smile through the kiss. He moved one hand down to the side of Dabi's face, and felt the contrast between the smooth metal of the staples and the roughness of Dabi's skin. Finally, Dabi broke the kiss.

"So?" Hawks said, slightly breathless.

"What?" Dabi snapped. He was getting defensive. His eyes darted in all directions. He was panicking. Hawks was walking a thin line at the moment.

"Did you feel that?"

Dabi looked at him like he was an idiot. Which was an improvement over looking like he was going to bolt any second. Hawks gave Dabi his cockiest smile. Dabi glared at him.

"You…really are a hero, aren't you," he said, sounding slightly disappointed. Hawks's heart plummeted. Was this the moment Dabi finally gave up on him? Had he just failed? "Heroes," Dabi continued, "do whatever they want because they don't know the meaning of the word consequences. "

Hawks scrunched up his face, trying to puzzle out what Dabi was trying to say. Should he not have kissed him? Well, that was a stupid question; ofcourse he shouldn't have kissed him. He was a murderous villain and Hawks was a hero. Kissing him was dumb on more than one level. But it also hadn't backfired spectacularly, which meant he must have done something right.

"Also," Dabi snapped, "I'm not made of fucking glass . You're not going to break me."

The next thing Hawks knew, he was shoved roughly up against a nearby shipping container. Dabi's mouth was on his, but this time he was taking the lead, which was fine with Hawks. He tried to let go of this racing thoughts, tried to give in entirely to the kiss, but a little voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him that he was a gigantic fucking idiot or a terrible person or some combination of the two. But that voice grew quieter and quieter as Dabi kissed him fiercely until it was just a whimper. Dabi had pinned one of Hawks's hands to the cool metal of the shipping container. The other was exploring Hawks's body, pushing Hawk's jacket aside and roaming up his back. Dabi's hand felt hot against his skin. Hawks's free hand tangled into Dabi's hair, pulling his face towards his own.

When Hawks tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, he knew it was time to come up for air. He broke the kiss and put his free hand on Dabi's chest, pushing him back. They were both panting heavily, though Dabi sounded more out of breath than Hawks did. Dabi's eyes were wide and wild. A few trickles of blood were leaking out of the scars on Dabi's face. Hawks felt sick to his stomach at the sight.

"I thought you said you weren't breakable," he murmured. He raised his hand to wipe the blood off Dabi's face, but Dabi slapped his hand away and Hawks quickly added, "I'm sorry."

He had lost his head. He shouldn't have let it get so heated. He needed to be better.

"You're still thinking like a hero," Dabi said angrily. "Empty words mean nothing to me."

"They weren't empty," Hawks insisted.

Dabi blinked in surprise, then hardened his expression.

"Well," he said, "I don't want your damn apology anyway."

"What do you want?" Hawks asked. He knew it was risky to keep pushing, but Dabi was in a vulnerable and emotional state. Hawks was too, but he was aware of it, at least. Was using it to push forward. He wasn't sure Dabi was as self-aware. He was looking at Hawks with a slightly lost expression that implied that he had never been asked what he wanted before. It was entirely possible that he hadn't, actually. The thought made him uncomfortable. He knew next to nothing about Dabi's past. Everything he knew was pieced together fragments. Not enough for the whole story, but enough to know it wasn't a happy one.

"I want…" Dabi hesitated, clearly trying to organize his thoughts. "I want you to come with me. To meet Shigaraki. I think it's time."

Hawks smiled, but it felt hollow. It felt like a lie.


End file.
